Fort Worth weekly gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1887-05-27

I tlnued his persecut1png, made one visit
too many, received his death wound, as
you say, and reveakd the secret. Now,
sir, you know all &end for the wretch
or 60 to him, and, Sqk him by what means
and false pgetensef he won the hand Of
Harriet E6AderoyT
The unhappy woman ceased speaking
Then suppressed sob wssheard, and as
she looEed up she sawssPAur standing Oh
the threshold ofthe door, where he hat
! listenAato her ead sud mournful tale.
"MysDn!" shegaspea,
4 "My nobfe .. trre-hearted mother
Although al tbsNoffd condemn you 1 will
Inot!" cried tue young man, and he rushed
TO her side, throwing his arms around
her neck and raining both tears snd
Kisses upon her pale face.
1 Meanwhile the planter stood and re-
garded both of them stormy and atten.
lively. When the first psroxysm of feel
ing was over he looked Paul in the eye
and asked:
"Did you know aught of this matter,
| sir, before you heard the confession OF
John Malerson?"
| "No, sir; as heaven hears me did not
/ If had should not have thus long been
a recipient of your bounty, but should
have gone forth slone into the world to
carve out name and fortune for myself.
AS it is, shall, after l have done my
duty, and aided you IN recovering your
dsughter-not for myself, sir, but for
you; for I renounce all claim to her hand
1 shall, after that, sir, trouble you no
more with my presence. I only hope that
shall be so happy as to fall in the COM
ing conflict with the Indians. Mother,
you must stay no longer here; will pro-
vide for you elsewhere-if l live "
The feelings of the planter were deeply
touched: his sternness melted away, and
tears came out upon his pale and rigid
cheek.
"Neither OF you shall ever leave my
roof with my consent" be said, in voice
half siifed with emotion. "Harriet, do
not blame you. Paul, l love you as If you
were my own son. Your father if [ must
call him such, will soon be dead and with
MIN shall the secret be forever buried.
never will sllude to it again"
wild and fearful shout was heard out
side the door at that moment, and the
next instant Malerson-who, raving ma
nIGC, had burst away from his guard
rushed into the room.
'Who says old Jack Malerson is going
to die?" he yelled. "Who says old Jack
will die? It's bloody lie! He'll never
die He's too game to die"
With his head and face covered with
blood, CHASTITY pale where it was not
stained, his eyes wild and glazing, his
hair matted and torn, he was a terrible
object TO look upon. Both the planter
and Paul stood aghast as he staggered
to the center of the room, and Mrs. De-
lOrme shrirked in speechIess horror and
hid her face beneath the bedclothes.
"Thst was Hat Fontleroy's scream ."
he cried; "Hat FontlerOy!-oh, but she
was pretty girl when | found her in
Troy! Have you murdered her, you old
deyil?''
And as he said this he bounded toward
Mr.. Delorme, who spraDg aside, and the
miserable wretch fell to the floor, Just as
Major Mccullough, Ada McAlpin and sew
eral others entered the room in pursuit of
him
"Seize him, men, and take him back to
the guardhouse!" said the major to a
couple of the rangers who had entered
with him.
"He'n not require any guard any
more, sir" said one of the men VINO took
hold of him to raise him up. "He is as
dead as log"
1t was true; in the fury of that last
struggle life had left him.
"Take him up gently and bear him out.
He was bad man, but he shall have de-
cent burial" said Mr.. Delorme, with
trembling voice.
The rangers obeyed, and the remains of
the Wretcht man were taken from the
room. Major Mccullough and Ada also
went out, leaving only Mr.. Delorme and
Paul in the room.
"Harriet," said the planter in a more
kind and gentle tone than he had used
toward her for weeks. "Harriet, death
has freed you from him at last. Look up;
we will yet be happy"
There was no reply-not even q motion
OF the snowy counterpart, which, in her
terror, she had drawn over her head.
Both Paul and himself seemed at the
same time to divine what caused her
silence, and low cry of horror escaped
from their lips as they raised the sheet
from over her face.
She was indeed free-free from all the
ills and prosecutions of this world-free
from life and its miseries!
CHAPTER Liz.
OF course, under these terrible circum-
stances, the march of Mccullough and his
rangers was delayed. The dead were to
be buried-the bereaved to have time to
calm their feelings.
The body of Malerson was put in
coffin and buried decently; but no mour-
ner followed it to the grave. But it was
different with Mrs. Delorme. Her re-
mains were inferred with all the show
which persons in her position generally
receive: and two there were who followed
her coffin with sad and sorrowful hearts
Although Paul had never for moment
supposed that she was other that his aunt
until the recent denouement, he had
always received more than mothers
care from her; he had never had cause to
miss mothers love.
The sad ceremonies of the day were
over, and Mr.. Delorme and Paul were
alone In the deserted chambers so lately |
occupied by the wife and mother.
"Do not grieve, Paul, my sonl" said |
Mr.. Delorme. "This bereavement only /
renders you more dear to me! In future, |
whether we recover poor Stella or not, |
shall regard you as son. Do not grieVe |
Tor the loss of your mother; she will be |
happier in another world than she was in |
his, or would have been had she lived"
al know that it is weak and unmanly in
ne to grieve, sir" said Paul. IN reply; !
'but if l loved her so much while | be-
ieved her to be only my aunt, how much |
more would l have loved her as
nother!n
"True, my good!boy; but it is useless
20 weep for the dead-tears will not re-
ell them, signs will not reach their